


Affection At A First Glance

by Sounddrive



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sounddrive/pseuds/Sounddrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-TFP: Orion Pax was assigned to go by the Editorial Branch of the Iacon Archives to pick up some data-pads. He never thougt he'd meet a certain pink femme as well. (originally on FF.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Glances Lead to Something More

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I did not in anyway make a profit form this. Characters belong to Hasbro, and the only thing I own here is the plot

Orion Pax certainly was turning heads when he enters the Editorial branch of the Iacon Records. For one thing, he pretty much towered over many of the mechs who were receiving files and other whatnot through the data stream from the Iacon Archivists.

The lobby was rather simple with white walls and a beige colored floor. There were some bots running from door to door, arms full of data-pads-and some up to the top of their helms-as others were walking calmly to their destinations. A pair of mechs towards the end of the hall seems to be formally speaking to one another in low voices, most likely the CEOs . . .

"Uh, are you lost, sir?" asks a femme receptionist that was to Pax's right.

"No," Orion Pax says simply with a shake of his helm. "Actually, I'm here to pick up several data-pads, but do you know where-"

"Oh!" exclaims the receptionist, suddenly standing up on her pedes. "You're from the Archives, aren't ya?" Orion nods in response and wordlessly follows the femme as they begin to navigate through the mazes of halls.

Yes, Orion Pax was here on business, but he was also here to pick up a data-pad that he had written not too long ago. A data-pad that would be a status report to the Council. He knew that he wouldn't find all the mistakes on it, so he had shipped it off to the Editorial Department to help on revising it.

They make one final left turn and nigh immediately, Orion Pax has a giant pile of data-files thrust upon him and he knows that he was going to topple over.

"Whoa!" shouts a different femme. Pax then feels a pair of servos pushing against his back, which helps him realign himself on his pedes. "Oi, they gave you a ton of stuff to deal with?"

Orion Pax can barely see above his giant pile of data-pads, but is relieved when a pair of smaller, pink servos lightens his load a bit. He then is face-to-face with a slightly shorter femme, with a kind expression and bright blue optics.

"Hi," replies the femme with a small wave whilst smiling. "Saw you almost toppling like a tower a nano ago, you alright?"

"Uh, yes, I'm quite alright," Orion coughs, hoping that the femme wouldn't notice his steadily rising chassis temperature. He certainly wasn't expecting this . . .

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" the receptionist femme snaps, breaking Orion out of his state of mind. Orion Pax immediately takes the data-files from the pink femme's servos. With a polite nod of farewell, the archivist darts away.

His only regret that day was not getting the pink femme's designation.

* * *

_Several cycles later . . ._

Orion Pax had returned to the Editorial building after receiving word from the Council. They thanked him on giving a very thorough report, and he had finally gotten a good bout of recharge for once.

In his servos at the moment were ten, giant platters full of energon goodies. In total to Orion's knowledge, there were only thirty or so Cybertronians working in the Editorial that cycle. With his Carrier's recipe, he had managed to make about a hundred or so of the energon goodies.

With a staff made up of mostly mechs, Pax knew that they would eat a lot, and he knew some that were greedy bunch of little scraplets . . .

The instant the mech walks in, helms were poking out of doors to take a whiff of what the sweet scent was. Within a matter of minutes, the whole staff was in the hall of the lobby.

"Ahem," Orion coughs, cautiously placing the plate atop several desks. He notices some of the staff eyeing the platters hungrily as he turns to them. Straightening up and clasping his blue servos behind his back, the mech says loudly and honestly, "I'd like to thank you all for editing all the data-files that get sent through the data stream, and for your hard work. On behalf of the Archive branch, I've brought some energon to share."

He quickly dives for cover as stampedes of Cybertronians come over to grab some of the treats, and he mentally sighs in relief while placing a servo upon his helm. The commotion was beginning to die down. In response, Orion manages to grab himself one of the treats, nibbling on it happily. He would need to drop a note of thanks for the recipe to his Carrier later . . .

Noticing that most of the staff had their fill, he examines the last plate that has some of the delicacies. He looks up to see some of the staff trying to persuade others to hand over a piece of energon and a few pairs of lovers was sharing the cookies. Orion couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at that.

Checking his internal chronometer to see how much longer he had before going on his shift, Orion then announces, "Well, there are about a dozen of these left; any-bot else want the last of these?"

There was only one servo up in the air. To Orion's delight, it was the pink femme from his last visit. She seems to dance towards the table to grab the whole plate. Orion's spark hums as the femme's cerulean optics met his azure ones, making his life-force shudder in delight.

"Look at him . . ." he can hear the femme receptionist giggle to one of her coworkers. He pays no heed, for as he says farewell, his optics flick towards the femme, who was then in a different conversation with a colleague. Sighing, Orion reluctantly makes his way out of the door and starts to walk towards the Iacon Archives.

"Hey!" shouts a familiar voice. Orion turns around just in time for the pink femme to run into him, literally. The archivist flushes in embarrassment as he takes a step back to let the femme intake for a few moments before she straightens up again. "I never got your name," she explains. The femme points to herself as she grins, "I'm Ariel." She sticks out a servo and Orion gently clasps it before giving a firm shake.

"Orion, Orion Pax," the mech responds. "I hope you liked the energon treats . . ." he adds somewhat shyly whilst retracting his servo. Not far behind Ariel were some of the editors from the building, daring to take a peek at what was going on.

"Say," Orion suggests as Ariel was about to turn away. "Are you going to be free tonight?" The femme pauses for only a nano before she twists her helm around and says slyly, "Watch yourself Orion; are you asking me out on a date?"

"If you make it so," the archivist responds with a shrug, getting a somewhat loud reaction from their poorly hidden audience.

"Then it is," Ariel giggles. With a tilt of her helm, she says in a softer voice, "After your shift?"

Orion can only nod vigorously in response.

* * *

_Later . . ._

Young Orion was bashfully trying to hide himself right now. He had been on his first date, and then an accident  **just**   _ **had**_  to happen to Ariel and himself. Apparently, a larger mech in  _vehicle mode_  wasn't watching where he was going, and had nearly mowed over the pair.

Currently, Orion has several welds on his arms and legs. He was sitting in a medical berth, slightly facing the door. Lying down on a nearby berth was Ariel, with her right leg tied up and propped up upon a box. She was staring at the cast with such disdain that Orion thought that she would make the cast go away if she could.

"Well, that was interesting to say the least . . ." Pax chuckles wearily, trying to lighten the mood. His chuckle tapers off into awkward silence, and Ariel wasn't looking at him, yet.

Sighing, the mech states, "Look, I'll understand if-"

"Wasn't your fault Orion," Ariel interjects, turning her helm to face him. "And well, it  _was_  interesting."

"I'll understand if you don't want to see me again," Pax replies sheepishly, looking away.

"Actually Orion Pax . . ." Ariel whispers, making the mech turn back to the femme. She has a smile plastered on her face-plate once again, and Orion couldn't help but to smile back. "I'd love to meet up again, but . . ."

"But what?" he cringes.

"Next time, I'm going to be walking on your left if we go near any streets ever again."


	2. The Accident

Ariel couldn't believe her luck when she spots the tall mech coming back. She ran into him a couple solar cycles ago, before he was nearly falling over from a high pile of data-pads that were being handed to him. He wasn't that much different than the average mech, but something . . . something told her that he was special, even before her superior had practically sent him packing.

Currently she was in one of the cubicles of the building when Ariel spies the Archivist on the street below. She could see him from her spot, balancing several gigantic plates in his servos. Not much time passed before he disappears below and then faint scent of succulent energon goodies were wafted from the ground floor up through to her little office.  _I better see what's up,_  the femme thinks, standing up to stretch. She meanders down a small stairwell and is then greeted by her colleagues attacking the tables that had several gigantic plates full of energon confections of various smells.

Ariel's scanners then scan the whole room, searching for the tall archivist. The femme spots him practically hunched over; his knee-plating were impossibly pressed to his chest-plates with one large, strong arm holding those powerful legs close to his chassis and his optics squeezed shut.

Ariel couldn't help but laugh at the archivist's method of taking cover. Especially with his free servo that is situated right on the middle of his helm.

The pink-plated editor then marches into the fray and grabs one of the little treats from one of the metal plates. She takes a delicate sniff of it, noticing that it had energon, a bit of liquidated rust mixed in along with a hint of something else. Ariel then pops the sweet into her mouth and feels as if she was in high heaven.

"Good Primus I will  _offline_  if he has a spark-mate," Ariel hears one of her femme colleges whisper to one of the younger mechs. The femme couldn't help but feel a bit bad as the youngling seems to somewhat deflate as the femme colleague then swaggers away, trying to chat up the archivist. Luckily the tall mech doesn't seem to notice as he's now gathering up the plates whilst looking at the clock. Ariel checks her internal chronometer and realizes that it was probably almost time for his shift.

"Well, there are about a dozen of these left; any-bot else want the last of these?" the archivist asks, holding up the giant plate of confections. In the future, Elita One would've said that it was because in her spark, she knew it was a kind of chance she wouldn't ever get again. At the time however, Ariel blames on the fact that she wanted some more of those energon goodies.

But, what she didn't count on was that  _none_  of her other colleagues were putting up a servo.

"Well, get up there femme!" whispers one of the senior editors. Ariel nearly stumbles to see her superior from behind her, nudging her forward. Almost automatically, Ariel quickly makes her way to the front, earning some hushed snickers.

"Oh Primus, they'd be so cute!" the femme receptionist giggles, making Ariel have a hard time trying to dampen the blush that threatened to appear on her white face-plates. Luckily for the femme, the friendly archivist only gave her a kind smile and didn't seem to notice. Sadly, the tall mech had to leave, and once he left, Ariel was literally surrounded by femmes and mechs alike.

"So, what are ya gonna do?! Jus' let 'im walk outta here?" one of the Polyhexian secretaries snaps at Ariel.

"Wait what are-?"

"Ah saw ya lookin' at him," the femme smirks, elbowing the confused editor. "GO AFTA HIM!"

"Wait what-no!" Ariel exclaims, waving her arms about. "He's probably halfway there now and-"

"Ah ain't takin' that fer an answer!" the exuberant Polyhexian nearly hollers, grabbing Ariel's shoulder-plating and then practically drags her up to the front doors. "Now git-'im and Ah'm expectin' ya to talk to 'im, ya hear! And don't come back 'til ya do!"

 _Dear Primus, she's a really wild one . . ._ Ariel couldn't help but think as she looks left and right. To her amazement, the archivist was slowly making his way to the Iacon Hall of Records, seeming to be in thought. Ariel shouts to the archivist, dashing after him. She's in for a whiplash when the mech turns around and they both collide into one another.

Ariel feels her entire being just flare up in embarrassment. The reason; the archivist has his arms wrapped protectively around her, and realizing what happened, he releases the pink femme.

 _Oh Primus preserve me!_  the femme silently prayed. She bashfully looks up at the taller mech and manages to utter, "I never got your name." She finally straightens up a bit and motions to herself as she finally introduces herself. In a friendly gesture, she holds out her servo to let the archivist shake it.

Luckily, the mech returns the gesture and replies, "Orion, Orion Pax."

Ariel couldn't help but feel somewhat giddy, and even more so when Orion stammers, "I hope you liked the energon treats . . ." Ariel could've melted right then after Orion removes his servo from hers. The mech was practically a sweet-spark! Checking her internal chronometer, Ariel realizes that she has to be back on shift.

"Say," Orion suggests as Ariel was about to turn away. "Are you going to be free tonight?"

Somewhere buried deep in her voice-box comes out, "Watch yourself Orion; are you asking me out on a date?"

"If you make it so," the archivist responds with a shrug. Ariel barely hides a scowl as there were some high pitched whistles thrown their way.  _I'll deal with them later,_  Ariel thinks softly

"Then it is," Ariel giggles. With a tilt of her helm, she says in a softer voice, "After your shift?"

To her delight, the mech nods.

* * *

_Later . . ._

This was one of the rare times Ariel actually had an excuse to get her chassis waxed and such. The femme was embarrassed by how her Carrier went squealing like a little femling as she helped.

"Oh! This is so exiting; my little sparkling going out with a mech~!" her Carrier sing-songs. "By the way you described him; he sounds like a nice one."

Her Creator had only one thing to say, "The second he mistreats you, comm. me and he and I will have a talk."

She was a little antsy, pacing a bit outside of the Iacon Hall of Records. Once she spots the Archivist, she couldn't help but skitter up next to him.

"Hi Orion."

"Hello Ariel." From that point, they head off into the heart of Iacon, flowing down a long avenue of small café's and shops.

Ariel was walking along the side of the path, closer to the traffic of bots in vehicle modes. "So, were you sparked in Iacon like I was?"

"Well, a lot of the 'bots out here are from our city after all," Orion murmurs, but was audible enough for the pink femme to hear. "So, how'd you land a job at the editing department?"

"I tried everywhere else, and no dice," the femme says plainly. "And with the caste system still in place, I really didn't have many options. And I sure as the Pit wasn't going to go to  _those_  places." Orion nods in empathy. The rich got richer as the others suffered, especially those in the bloody Kaon Pits and Coliseums.

"Can we go in there?" Ariel says quickly, noticing a small restaurant. Orion looks up and stares at it for a bit. "I hear their prices are reasonable here."

"Sure, why not?" the archivist responds, opening the door for her as a medic-she could tell from the red and white paint job most medics had those days-steps out.

"Orion?" asks the medic, blinking as he scrutinizes the mech.

"Ratchet?" the red and blue mech squeaks. "What are you-" Orion doesn't have time to say anything else as Ratchet takes a look at the pink femme. Ariel didn't know whether or not she was imagining things, but a small smile shows up on the serious-looking medic.

"Have a good solar cycle Orion," Ratchet says quickly and strides out, as if nothing happened.

"Who's that?" Ariel asks the archivist. The sheepish mech now has a rosy face-plate.

"Uh, no one really," he says quickly. "He's my family medic."

Orion ushers her in before anything else can happen.

* * *

_Several mega-cycles later . . ._

The two leave the place, conversing rather happily.

"And then he somehow shoots off his own cannon onto his pede?" Ariel asks Orion, speaking of a story Orion heard from one of his co-workers.

"Well, that's what he said, but I'm not so sure I can believe him," the tall mech chuckles. "He's known for his tall tales."

Before the femme can speak however, a loud screech of tires is heard and both whip around to see an out of control Cybertronian in vehicle mode barreling towards them.

"Look out!"

"Holy-"

"ARIEL!" was the last thing the femme remembers before blacking out.

* * *

_Orion's P.O.V._

Kind bystanders help Orion hustle the unconscious femme in his arms towards a nearby clinic.

"Oh Primus, please, please, please smite me now," Orion murmurs repeatedly under his breath as they manage to head towards the doctor's, and conveniently enough it was where Ratchet worked.

"What in the name of the Allspark happened here Orion?!" the medic asks incredulously as the younger mech limps in and places down the femme that was out cold. The strangers that helped Orion carry in Ariel all start to talk at the same time.

"Some random mech ran them over sir-"

"I think it was an accident that happened-"

"But, are they going to be okay-?"

 _"UNLESS YOU WERE INJURED IN THE CRASH, GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!"_  the stern medic shouts as loud as his voice-box would allow. The bystanders quickly file out and Ratchet slams the door in their faces.

"By the Thirteen Primes," Ratchet shakes his helm. "You're on your first date and already in an accident." Orion Pax turns a bright red at that, bowing his helm. That makes him wince in pain and he clamps a servo over his shoulder.

Silently, the red and white mech starts to examine the femme first. Orion cringes when Ratchet's scrutinizing gaze lands onto Ariel's right pede and leg. The appendage was mangled and almost flattened like a mat.

"Tsk, tsk," Ratchet sighs. "I'll need to put a brace on that." He then takes a glance at Orion.

"You'll need a few welds on you youngling," he says, pointing to various spots on the mech's chassis. Orion looks to his chest-plates and then his legs. Marks and cracks in a variety of lengths dance across his chassis. The librarian groans aloud, letting his helm fall flat into his servos

"It isn't the end of the world youngling."

"Ratchet, if this accident didn't kill me, Ariel's Creator will . . ."

"Well then," the medic says with a wry chuckle. "If that's the case, I'll be there to help fix your chassis again if needed."


	3. What You Don't Want to Give

After that mishap had been done and over with, Orion and Ariel were soon the topic of gossip between their workplaces for the next few millennia.

"Have you seen the way he looks at her?"

"Ariel's practically  _swooning,_  I tell you!"

"Never thought I'd see the mech rope a lil' femme like that-"

"The lucky 'bots-"

"It's so cute!"

"Heck, I'm wondering if they are even  _getting it on_  if you know what I mean-"

"Do you think they'll be spark-mates someday?"

Those were just a  _few_  snippets of what the two cyber-love birds heard on a day to day basis lately.

"Ugh, though I wish they'd shut up about it!" Ariel groans in annoyance one night in Orion's apartment. "It's getting monotonous if you ask me." Orion can only laugh at that as he was making some energon.

The apartment was small by Cybertronian standard. It was an apartment in downtown Iacon, on the third floor of a Cybertronian four-floor complex. The place was made up of one main room, a small kitchen area, a simple wash rack, and a fairly average sitting room/living room.

When Ariel first was invited over to the place, she was rather shocked by how sparsely furnished it was. Other than the basic necessities, the place only had a few holo-pics here and was downright organized.

The walls were a bit too bare by the editor's opinion. Soon enough, Ariel went about and added a feminine touch to the place, adding some holo-pics and some random pieces of several local artists'-who were also her friends-pieces to the walls. Most were landscape pieces, drawn or stunning holo-scans of different places of Cybertron. To name one, it was of the Great Crystals Trees if Praxus. The beautiful groves of the crystal trees were said to be as old as Cybertron itself, all in a variety of shades, ranging from the basic white, silver, and gray to the brightest colors anyone can imagine.

"Well, I think it's rather the fact that they need something to talk about," the archivist chuckles, shaking his helm.

"I think they're just bored sometimes." Orion turns to the oven, tapping his digits on the countertop.

 _Now if they'd just bake themselves . . ._  he muses to himself.

The mech pauses drumming his fingers when Ariel is suddenly behind him, her arms wrapped around his middle. Orion twists his helm around to smile fondly at Ariel as the femme has a sly grin on her faceplates.

"Ariel what . . .?" Orion asks, simply, his voice slightly confused yet curious. He manages to twist around in his femme-friend's hold on him.

Quickly, Ariel wraps her arms behind Orion's shoulders the best she could. On the very tip of her pedes, Ariel shuttered her optics as she kisses Orion. The librarian's optic ridges shoot up in astonishment, making Ariel pull back and laugh warmly.

"What brought that on?" the archivist asks quizzically, though his spark was doing twenty flip-flops per nano in his chest-plates. It wasn't like they never had kissed before; they commonly held servos or had an arm wrapped around the other. Adding to that, it was just that they didn't kiss each other it often. That in turn made his whole self feel very tingly and that he was floating above the floor.

Ariel smiles happily as she nuzzles the side of Orion's face, sighing in content as he wraps his arms around her. Orion leans towards her again, his optics halved. He just wanted the feeling to return again . . .

_BANG-BONG-BONG!_

The pair jump as they stare at the origin of the sound. It was from the door, and to Ariel, why did Orion seem somewhat worried?

"Orion Pax? You in there?!" a very gruff voice shouts through the door. Ariel's optics ridge quirks up at that. That voice . . . why did it sound so familiar?

"Orion! It's me!" came the voice again from the other side of the door.

"Yes, I know it's you Megatron . . ." Orion sighs in resignation, sending an apologetic look to Ariel. The pink femme's optics widen at that.

"Megatronous, the Gladiator?" Ariel mouths to the mech in front of her. Orion cringes. He turns to her, and his optics pleaded to her to stay out of sight, and to please be understanding.

Ariel nods in affirmation and quickly scurries to Orion's room, closing the door behind her.

The editor's helm was full of questions and memories of what had been happening for the past few orbital cycles. Orion Pax and Megatronous, or rather Megatron now, were collaborating lately on how to help Cybertronian be rid of corruption from the higher levels of society.

Ariel hadn't had the pleasure in meeting the silver gladiator, and she didn't really want to. From the word of the news and from the street, Megatronous was a relatively new gladiator in the Pits of Kaon, yet became famous by not losing any of his battles. After each victory, the silver mech preached that he wanted change in Cybertron, a new era of a just planet.

Soon enough, the large mech had a rapid group of followers.

Ariel had seen how Orion and Megatron corresponded a lot, almost as much as Pax and she communicated to one another over the stellar cycles. The femme almost forgot that the two of them would go to the High Council and plead their case tomorrow. Lately, Ariel prayed constantly that nothing would go dour.

Voices came from outside the door, and being curious, Ariel presses her audio receptor on the door.

"Is this a bad time Orion?" Megatron asks. The sounds of large pedes meandering through the apartment were apparent. "I can see the expression on your face, and don't you dare lie to me; you're one of the worst liars this side of the planet."

 _Well that's true,_  Ariel thought for a moment. Orion was a horrible liar, whether or not he was conscious of it. She then returns her concentration onto the red and blue mech's voice.

"Well, I had some company earlier Megatron, but they had to leave," the archivist says simply, though . . . was it Ariel's imagination or did Orion sound nervous?

"There's a femme's touch throughout the whole place; have you been courting someone as of late?"

"Megatron-"

"Answer me Orion," the gladiator presses.

"I'll answer your question if you'll answer mine," Orion deadpans.

"Alright then, shoot."

"How did you find my living quarters? I never told you before where I was situated, other than in Iacon." That worries Ariel then. How  _did_  the Kaonian find Orion Pax's apartment, all the way in Iacon?

"I have my . . . resources."

"Megatronous-"

"Now, now, let's not dwell on the details, shall we?" Megatron quickly changes the subject. The sound of them sitting on the couch is audible through the door, making Ariel twitch a bit in agitation.

"Anyways, I'm here on  _business_  Orion."

"It's about, tomorrow, isn't it?" the archivist asks.

"Yes . . . are you prepared for tomorrow?" Megatron asks, and his voice sounds a bit too eager for it.

"Yes," Orion Pax says straight out. "I'm not going to back out if that's what you're thinking."

"Knowing you Orion Pax, I  _know_ you wouldn't  _dream_  of it," the gladiator retorts openly.

"Now for my other question-"

"Megatronous, we have a big solar cycle tomorrow, and I have to practice my plea to the High Council," Orion murmurs to him. The sound of someone getting up is evident. A pair of pedes head toward the door then.

"I understand, so long Orion," Megatronous says cheerfully, a bit  _too_  cheerfully, and then the sound of a door being closed is heard.

Ariel carefully peeks out from the room, seeing Orion sigh and shake his helm.

"Orion," she asks, stepping out to him. "Are you-?"

"I'm alright sweet-spark," Pax replies, shuttering his optics for a moment. The femme walks over to him and grasps his larger servos in her own.

Orion opens his cerulean optics to look at the femme's bright blue orbs, the very ones he fell in love with.

"Do you want me to leave? I mean, after all tomorrow-"

"I'd prefer that you stay," the archivist replies, gentling squeezing her pink servos. Ariel looks up at Orion Pax, her optics full of understanding.

"Don't worry too much Pax," Ariel says, stepping forward to hug his waist. She lets her helm make contact to his chest-plates, listening to the beating spark beneath his armor.

"It'll be fine."

"I don't want to be alone tonight," Orion whispers, embracing her as well.

"You won't have too. I'll be here, always."

* * *

_Present day; Jasper, Nevada . . ._

"Optimus," a voice calls to the Prime. The Matrix Bearer then snaps out of his reverie and realizes his surroundings. He is at the monitor, and the other Autobots are out, picking up their respective charges from the high school.

"Yes old friend?" Optimus asks the CMO. He turns to the red and white mech. "What is it?"

"You have that look in your optics again," Ratchet explains.

"The thing is though; I haven't seen that look since the twilight of the War, all those years ago." Optimus makes a sound of confirmation, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to deceive him.

Ratchet reaches up to Optimus's shoulder strut, grasping it for a few moments before releasing his grip. "I know it has been many, many stellar cycles that you saw her last."

"It . . . makes me miss her more."

After the War first broke out, Optimus, the first Prime since the Golden Age of Cybertron, hadn't seen Ariel once the battles between the Autobots and Decepticons started. They didn't meet again until about three million years later, when Prime was visiting one of the med-bays.

He remembers meeting a pink femme, sitting on a berth with her right leg propped up on a block. Her bright blue optics were staring ungratefully at the cast on her appendage. A image, deep from within Orion Pax's memory core brings up a similar situation that happened to him.

By then, Ariel was no more. She had become Elita One.

They were shocked of course, seeing one another after so long. As to what Elita had told him, Alpha Trion had to do a major overhaul on her chassis with other medics. It was due to an injury that was so ghastly, it almost killed her.

The long lost lovers spoke to one another for quite some time. From afar, it was a professional conversation. But, only a handful of Autobots knew what really went on between the pair before the War broke out.

However, with the Matrix of Leadership within him, Optimus had a hard time conveying his emotions to the femme he cherished. Elita laughed it off of course, saying with the huge responsibility of a Prime, he'd of course have many other things on his processor.

Their meetings with each other were both far too short and too far in between, the former archivist thought. In total, they only met five times through the course of the War.

Abruptly, pain and sadness stab at the Prime's spark, making Optimus's intakes hitch a bit. He shutters his optics tightly. Then, Prime sighs deeply, heavily.

Several hundred years before Cybertron went fully dark . . . Elita had sacrificed her life. She valiantly jumped atop a shrapnel grenade that would've killed the rest of her squad if she hadn't covered it.

Sadly, according to the medical report, Ariel never made it to the operating table.

Knowing the Prime's mood then, Ratchet leaves the Matrix Bearer alone to his memories.

The sound of the other Autobots entering through the silo make Optimus straighten up a bit, having to keep his emotions in check once again. Moments before Arcee and Jack enter the main room, a memory tugs at the Prime's CPU.

_He was sitting across from Elita One, staring at her as if it was the first time he had ever set eyes upon a femme._

" _Are you alright Or-Optimus?" the pink femme asks, catching her mistake. She gapes at him._

" _Well, when I saw some holo-scans of you from several of my squad members, I couldn't believe it . . ."_

" _So . . . Ariel, it's Elita One now, isn't it?" Optimus says. His face was expressionless, but his voice displayed his shock quite suitably._

" _It's alright Orion," she said with a rare smile that brightened up the whole room. "But you know some things never change."_

" _How odd that I find you like this, just like that day . . ." the Prime articulates, still in shock. Especially when his spark does flip flops once again._

_It was as if he back when he was a simple data clerk in the Iacon Hall of Records . . . back to when he was Orion Pax._

* * *

Later, Optimus found himself at the top of the missile silo, looking off into the horizon. The sun was setting, throwing blankets of pink and orange into the horizon. Soon, it'd be a jet black sky, dotted with stars.

 _I hope, wherever you are . . . you're happy,_  Prime silently whispers to the heavens. Prime sits on the edge, legs dangling off the side of the silo. He sits there for several hours, just watching the sky.

Vaguely, whatever left of Orion Pax wondered if Ariel was watching him, and what could've been if he hadn't gone to the High Council.

Optimus wondered if it was just his imagination, or that the wind was blowing a message to him. He could hear a faint voice . . .

" _Love, go inside, get some rest."_ The last of the Primes obeyed. He promptly got up and slowly starts walking back into base, his spark floating in its casing as his memories of those cherished years dance in his memory core.

He didn't see the streak of pink light pass overhead, twisting, twirling and soaring through the cosmos.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> Fact: This is based off of a visiting speaker's answer to one of my fellow school-mates questions about the speaker's life:
> 
> "How did you meet your wife?"
> 
> I'm going to blame on the fact that I'm on a sugary-lemonade high and with a sweet romance on my mind, this came up. I listened to quite a bit of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" by Elton John & "You'll Be in My Heart" by Phil Collins in order to get this done . . . and so I hope you enjoyed~!


End file.
